Faced with the surprising and monumental task of writing three Game Reports in a row this week, I did what anyone would do for the first game -- resort to ripping off one of the greatest poets ever. Because anything that distances myself from yesterday's game is a Good Thing.

Oh, sure. I could study the effects of choking over and over again with the bases loaded, but that's not very much fun after a loss like that. Bah. Granted, trying to find a bunch of rhymes for "table" isn't much better, but it will have to do.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious Retrosheet boxscore,
While I nodded, nearly sleeping, suddenly there came a beeping,
As of someone gently creeping, creeping in my e-mail door.
"'Tis some spammer," I muttered, "creeping in my e-mail door;
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I recall, it was just before the fall,
And each separate dying storyline wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From the archives surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Report.
For the rare and radiant Patriot's Day "genius" Game Report,
Unmatched here in any sport.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of all inbox folders
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
" 'Tis some spammer entreating entrance at my e-mail door,
Some late spammer entreating entrance at my e-mail door.
This it is, and nothing more."

Deep into the browser peering, long I sat there, wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no Bauxites ever dared to dream to date;
But the article remained unwritten, and my creativity got bitten,
And the only word there fittin' was the italicized, "9-8."
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,"9-8!" Merely this, and nothing great.

Back into the browser turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before,
"Surely," said I, "surely, here knocks someone at my e-mail inbox.
Let me open up Firefox, and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
"'Tis the spam, and nothing more."

Now here I read the message, when, with many an exciting presage,
In there stepped a stately Magpie, of the grand old days of yore.
Not the short-of-word articles made he; why, a thousand times six spent on Dave Stieb;
Then with mien of lord or lady, he perched above my e-mail door.
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ageless bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the dignified appearance of his look long past the cradle,
"Growing that beard, they should not have let you," I said. "Art sure no Manchu,
Why, you look worse than Koch-oo, who yanked your power cable?
Tell me what I could do; here at night, I am not able."
Quoth the Magpie, "Data table."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only thought that's stable,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disasterFollowed fast and followed faster, till his songs all turned to fables,---
Till the dirges of his hope that posting rights never disable
His "data...data table."

But the Magpie still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and roof and gable;
Then, upon the RAM count sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking of what this ominous bird is able --
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird is able
When he features this "Data table."

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee -- and you know it must be
Gibby -- forgive me! O, forgive me for I might not be able!
Replace, O replace this senile writer with one from the livery stable!"
Quoth the Magpie, "Data Table!"

"Ordonez!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
His hitting temperature is off the charts and he's willing and able,
Desolate, yet still undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this home by horror haunted--tell me, I must be able
To know if there is truth to hit streaks?--or is it all plain fable!"
Quoth the Magpie, "Data Table."

And the Magpie, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Grebeck just above my office table;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.
And the idea o'er him streaming sticks like any gummed label;
And my sole point from out that notion that lies floating shall be able
To be expressed in -- a data table!

As you might have guessed from the above...well, I don't know what to call it...I have here Magglio Ordonez's statistics since coming back from the DL. Last night he went 1-for-5, so he's down a little bit. Previous to last night's game, he was on a 15-for-50 streak, or a 9-for-33 or a 6-for-20, depending on how far back you want to go.

So his hitting temperature (if you don't understand that, you should have followed the link above) prior to last night was .313, which is good since the baseline for hitting temperature is .250. Here's the aforementioned data table for Magglio, starting with his first game back from injury:

Now, I bet nobody bothered to read that. This is one flaw in the Magpie's "Data table!" cry. So I have put those numbers into a nice graph for you.

Check out how hot he was back at the end of July -- peaking at .336 after a 3-hit game on July 24. He's been relatively down lately.

I'll finish things off here with another graph. I'll tell you all that two of these hitting temperatures belong to Blue Jay hitters and the pink one is a non-Jay. Can anyone tell me who all three of them are? (I think the green one will be easy to figure out, but the blue one might be harder.)

I'll take a look back at every Blue Jay hitter and their hitting temperatures from 2004 in a future Game Report. And maybe the question in my second-last stanza above will be answered, though I'll definitely be able to find out who the streakiest hitter was throughout the Season From Hell.

So...can anyone guess the three mystery hitters? Who's that guy with the hitting temperature that rarely went below .290?

You all have different thoughts on the pink line, I see. Well, one of you is right. Perhaps I should have said that the x-axis indicates games played, so the pink hitter has played more games than the other two. (Russ Adams has played fewer games than Eric Hinske, so his line ends earlier.)

The pink hitter is indeed Ichiro! -- though all the non-Jay guesses were good.

I wonder how many of you could identify the 2004 hitters in this way. Perhaps a year off clouds your memory...

The best I can do is:
Perhaps if we had Roy there would have been a better outcome this weekend, but as we say in my country, "It is too late to soften the kidney beans."

It's very interesting to read this column. Craig was right. You should all read it, even if you don't know any Spanish. For example, I learned that Batista considered the Yankee series the most important one to date this season, and the Jays have to try and win the division before even thinking about the wild card.

This game was the first game I have attended this year. I was in 518, but didn't spot any familiar faces or cowbells. :)

A couple of comments:

Half the crowd was gone by the end of the game. I find it disappointing that people are unwilling to stay to watch the tail end of one of the 'most exciting' games all year.

My friend that was in from England, and doesn't really understand baseball except as a strange kind of cricket, thought that Hinske looked bad.

The groundball that Hill bobbled in the top of the 12th looked like a routine ground ball: I'm shocked that it was scored a hit.

The 9th and 12th were incredibly frustrating, especially after we came back from Bush's batting practice. Unfortunately, I didn't see much of the rest of the game because I was technically having a business meeting at the same time, and trying to do tensor calculus and watch baseball at the same time is... hard.

Excalabur brings up a point I'm shocked hadn't been said in this thread or the Instant Replay. Everyone seemed so eager to assign blame. Well Hill has got to come up with that ball. Yes, it was a high chopper, but it's a catcher running. He could have calmly waited for it to come down, and with his cannon of an arm thrown Wilson out by 2 steps. Even stabbing high at it, it just hit the palm of his glove, I was pretty surprised it wasn't an error. Eh, oh well, the Jays'll get 'em tonight.

The groundball that Hill bobbled in the top of the 12th looked like a routine ground ball: I'm shocked that it was scored a hit.

I dunno. On further inspection of the play, he took half a step in, then reeled back. Perhaps without that half step he would've got it, but for him to catch that ball, he'd a) have to grow a couple inches or b) mechanically change his footing, but you can't ask him to do that, because it was one special play with an unusually high bounce.

He could've recovered and made a thrown, but that's asking *alot*, even for a good defensive player like Hill. If he had made that catch, it would've been an incredible example of atheticism.